On the first day of the apocalypse
My true love said to me
It seems I've become a zombie.
What:
Zombies.
Where:
They're everywhere.
Don't call me cliché. I know. What's the first thing people think of when they hear "apocalypse?" Either the Bible, or zombies.
Well, that's why the zombies would attack first, so the apocalypse can get it out of the way and save the good stuff for later.
How:
A crowd of people spends too much time listening to Adelle and gets so depressed they fall into a never-ending sleep... which then ends. And they are angry at all the lovers of the world and go eat their faces off.
But, really, viruses seem to be the most common idea for how to bring people back from the dead. I mean, it's plausible... minus the part where they're actually dead. They could just be really, really, incurably sick, with a mutated supervirus that causes their skin to melt from their faces and their brain capacity to be operating on "shamble-only" mode.
How to Survive:
Find a teenage guy and hide behind him.
Honestly, with an apocalypse involving zombies, we'll fare better than any other possible disaster.
Why?
Well, the emergency response teams will be more or less helpless, but there exists a population of young men (and even some young women) who have been preparing for this event for the better part of the last decade, and possibly their whole lives. Zombie survival plans are everywhere, and everyone who has one, has one they made themselves for their own circumstances. I'm marrying into a pretty good one, so I think I'll make it through.
Imagine how euphoric they are! News hits: deadly virus causes a random Adelle fan to eat someone's brain, and it's out with the X-box controllers and in with the axes! A whole army of teenagers and young men rise up, axes at the ready, and become a new generation of heroes.
Zombies? Psh. Please.
The apocalypse can do better than that.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Remember 2011 - a pep talk to myself
Okay, self, remember that semester at the end of 2010 when you were working 25 hours a week, babysitting 20, and going to school full time?
And remember how horribly you handled that semester? Remember how you were miserable and cranky and stressed and pretty sure you were going to die?
Remember how the next semester you had a similar schedule, and you promised yourself you would handle it with grace? Remember how you successfully made it through winter 2011 and an insane semester with no break downs and lots of peace, and were a pleasant person to be around?
Well... you can do it again. This is NOT that bad. There is more time to get things done. Work is much longer, but easier. You have more money. Yes, your to-do list is roughly the size of the Book of Leviticus, but you're getting through it. You crossed one thing off already, made significant headway on another, made progress on several more, and decided a whole section of the list wasn't that important.
You'll do it. You'll get your invitations designed and find a place to live and get a venue for the Utah reception. You'll get your Christmas shopping done, and get the presents wrapped, and do everything else on that incredibly long list.
Just remember, graceful. Stress can be handled gracefully, and whining is NOT graceful.
Remember 2011. You did it once.
You can do it again.
And remember how horribly you handled that semester? Remember how you were miserable and cranky and stressed and pretty sure you were going to die?
Remember how the next semester you had a similar schedule, and you promised yourself you would handle it with grace? Remember how you successfully made it through winter 2011 and an insane semester with no break downs and lots of peace, and were a pleasant person to be around?
Well... you can do it again. This is NOT that bad. There is more time to get things done. Work is much longer, but easier. You have more money. Yes, your to-do list is roughly the size of the Book of Leviticus, but you're getting through it. You crossed one thing off already, made significant headway on another, made progress on several more, and decided a whole section of the list wasn't that important.
You'll do it. You'll get your invitations designed and find a place to live and get a venue for the Utah reception. You'll get your Christmas shopping done, and get the presents wrapped, and do everything else on that incredibly long list.
Just remember, graceful. Stress can be handled gracefully, and whining is NOT graceful.
Remember 2011. You did it once.
You can do it again.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
A Shrewd Businesswoman
It's a hard market out there, especially for housing.
Housing always drops in a recession, but usually something as small as a 2 semester contract on an apartment can be sold fairly quickly. Sometimes, when the market is low, a tenant attempting to get out of their contract must offer a tempting deal like, "You can keep my deposit." Contracts like that are snatched up in seconds.
However, a recent phenomenon has affected the women's student housing market in a strange way. There has been a gargantuan surge in women deciding to leave their little hovels and travel the world. Some will stay closer to home, and others will go abroad.
All of them will sell their student housing contracts.
When supply shoots to the sky, demand crawls in a little earthworm hole and hibernates for the winter.
And yes, this is the time I picked to get married and attempt to sell my single women's housing contract.
I've had 2 nibbles on my multiple Craigslist ads so far. That's 2 potential prospects in a month. Today I showed my apartment off to the 2nd of those nibbles.
The little nibble was a tall girl with short, bleached hair. Her name was Gena, and she seemed super friendly. I bent my schedule around itself to show her the place, and this morning was spent prepping my sales pitch.
I'm offering deposit AND first month's rent. This is a great deal, and unfortunately, the only kind of deal that's even sort of selling right now. Now, that clearly smacks of the word, "desperate." Well, yes, I am desperate. I have a kitchen roughly the size of a raccoon trap, and I'm competing with the entire female student body who are going on missions.
I reminded myself that, though I am desperate, I need to keep a solid business sense about me. Don't say, "PLEEEEEASE take my contract!!! I'll do anything!" because I'll likely lose my firstborn son. It's great to advertise that I'm giving them my deposit and first month's rent, but I need to make sure it sounds like I'm a shrewd businesswoman, and not a desperate fiancee trying to get out of her single-student housing contract. So, no begging. Instead, use phrases like, "I'm undercutting the market." She's getting an awesome deal because I know the market and I know what people are looking for.
At 2:30, my little nibble came to see my apartment. I gave her the grand tour, showing her the spacious storage closets and the washer and dryer. I took her in my bedroom and showed her how the closet goes all the way through, and told her how awesome it all was.
Then it came time to discuss finances. I became cold and calculating... while simultaneously warm and inviting. She wanted to make a deal, but she feared to take advantage of me.
What did I say?
Well...
"So, I'm sure you've noticed everyone is going on missions and there are lots of housing options, so I'm undercutting the market and paying the deposit AND first month's rent."
Not bad, right?
And then, as we were walking out the door, I added the gum drops to the shrewd businesswoman gingerbread house. Or the icing to the cake. Whatever.
I said, "I mean, like I said, I'm really trying to get this sold, so if you want to negotiate at all, I'm pretty much putty in your hands."
That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Putty. I am shrewd, businesslike putty that you can mold and shape and squeeze lots and lots of pennies out of. Heck, I'd sleep on the floor of the front room for a month if it meant I got my contract sold.
Housing always drops in a recession, but usually something as small as a 2 semester contract on an apartment can be sold fairly quickly. Sometimes, when the market is low, a tenant attempting to get out of their contract must offer a tempting deal like, "You can keep my deposit." Contracts like that are snatched up in seconds.
However, a recent phenomenon has affected the women's student housing market in a strange way. There has been a gargantuan surge in women deciding to leave their little hovels and travel the world. Some will stay closer to home, and others will go abroad.
All of them will sell their student housing contracts.
When supply shoots to the sky, demand crawls in a little earthworm hole and hibernates for the winter.
And yes, this is the time I picked to get married and attempt to sell my single women's housing contract.
I've had 2 nibbles on my multiple Craigslist ads so far. That's 2 potential prospects in a month. Today I showed my apartment off to the 2nd of those nibbles.
The little nibble was a tall girl with short, bleached hair. Her name was Gena, and she seemed super friendly. I bent my schedule around itself to show her the place, and this morning was spent prepping my sales pitch.
I'm offering deposit AND first month's rent. This is a great deal, and unfortunately, the only kind of deal that's even sort of selling right now. Now, that clearly smacks of the word, "desperate." Well, yes, I am desperate. I have a kitchen roughly the size of a raccoon trap, and I'm competing with the entire female student body who are going on missions.
I reminded myself that, though I am desperate, I need to keep a solid business sense about me. Don't say, "PLEEEEEASE take my contract!!! I'll do anything!" because I'll likely lose my firstborn son. It's great to advertise that I'm giving them my deposit and first month's rent, but I need to make sure it sounds like I'm a shrewd businesswoman, and not a desperate fiancee trying to get out of her single-student housing contract. So, no begging. Instead, use phrases like, "I'm undercutting the market." She's getting an awesome deal because I know the market and I know what people are looking for.
At 2:30, my little nibble came to see my apartment. I gave her the grand tour, showing her the spacious storage closets and the washer and dryer. I took her in my bedroom and showed her how the closet goes all the way through, and told her how awesome it all was.
Then it came time to discuss finances. I became cold and calculating... while simultaneously warm and inviting. She wanted to make a deal, but she feared to take advantage of me.
What did I say?
Well...
"So, I'm sure you've noticed everyone is going on missions and there are lots of housing options, so I'm undercutting the market and paying the deposit AND first month's rent."
Not bad, right?
And then, as we were walking out the door, I added the gum drops to the shrewd businesswoman gingerbread house. Or the icing to the cake. Whatever.
I said, "I mean, like I said, I'm really trying to get this sold, so if you want to negotiate at all, I'm pretty much putty in your hands."
That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Putty. I am shrewd, businesslike putty that you can mold and shape and squeeze lots and lots of pennies out of. Heck, I'd sleep on the floor of the front room for a month if it meant I got my contract sold.
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